The Gangsta Conundrum
by Flopsie
Summary: Bobert Lungdon is in a race against time to stop a dastardly plot which puts millions of good-looking people at risk
1. Prologue

_I own nothing associated with the books of Dan Brown. Please don't sue me for this piss-poor rip-off._

Prologue

Professor Sheridan Grizzlthwaite ached all over but he had to keep running. The ghostly glow of the full moon provided the only light as he frantically stumbled his way through the woods in the dead of night. Somewhere behind him, the murderer followed closely, the carving knife in his black leather-gloved hand ready to strike.

Even as he huffed and puffed and wheezed, Grizzlthwaite knew he wouldn't be able to outrun his pursuer for long. A life in the lab had left little time for exercise, and the portly scientist felt his body giving up on him as the adrenalin rush coursing through him began to subside.

He could hear him now, the black-clad murderer with the knife, ghosting his way effortlessly through the thick vegetation. Suddenly Grizzlthwaite glimpsed a flash of sharpened steel as the man pounced, falling on top of him with his evil eyes the only visible feature behind his black ski-mask.

"No!" he gasped, "please don't kill me! I have money."

"Moohahaha," replied the murderer evilly. "I have no interest in material gain."

"Why? Are you a communist?"

"Don't be so literal. You know too much and that is why you must die!"

"Isn't that a little clichéd?"

"Silence! I will not suffer your insubordination any longer! It is time for you to die, but before I do, I will reveal my face to you as I do with all my victims!"

The murderer lifted his mask, and Professor Grizzlthwaite was horrified to see a familiar face staring back at him.

"My god!" he gasped. "It's you!"

"Yes," said the murderer. "You have seen me, but now you will not again!" and with that the knife plunged down.

_You have seen me but now you will not again? _thought the murderer. _I really need to come up with a better catchphrase than that._

As swift as the wind, the murderer was gone again_._


	2. 1

Professor Bobert Lungdon pulled up in the car park on campus at Yale University in his red Ferrari Scaglietti. He had seen the heads turn in response to the throaty roar of the sleek, high-performance car and knew what was coming next. As the powerful V12 engine grumbled to a halt, he took a deep breath and ran a well-manicured hand through his greying black hair.

_Okay, _he thought. _Let's get this over with._

Hesitantly he emerged from the vehicle, and that was when all hell broke loose. An army of screaming females were immediately on him, grabbing at his tweed jacket, tugging on his leather briefcase, a few even trying to pull locks of hair from his head.

"Bobert! We love yooooou!"

"Bobert! Marry me!"

"Bobert! I wanna have your babies!"

"Oh my god! He touched me! Bobert Lungdon touched my arm. I'm never gonna wash it again!"

"Aaaaggggghhhh!"

As the adoring screams continued, Bobert patiently wrestled his way through the adoring mob. He was used to it by now; it was part of his daily routine as he made his way into his office in the Bobert Lungdon Memorial building.

The building had been renamed in Lungdon's honour by the Dean of the Faculty because, in the Dean's own words "he's just so goddamn awesome."

Lungdon gave a final cheeky wink driving the crowd into ecstatic screaming before disappearing into the building.

As Bobert made the short journey through the corridors, he ran the usual gauntlet of adoring staff who accosted him at every step.

"Hi Bobert!"

"Good to see you Bobert!"

"Great to see you Bobert!"

"Hey hey, it's Bobert!"

And each time, Bobert would either nod in return or mumble a hello. It was nice to be popular but sometimes it could be quite tiring.

Bobert reached the office, where Candy, his loyal secretary was already hard at work, her quick, slender fingers clicking away at her keyboard. It wasn't normal policy for a lecturer to have their own personal secretary, but the board had pulled strings after Lungdon had single-handedly saved the entire university from a terrorist attack a few years back. Lungdon had personally selected Candy; blonde and devastatingly attractive, there was a sharp brain behind those alluring features. Candy had won the Miss USA title five years in a row before turning her attention to academic pursuits. Candy had graduated from Harvard and was set to pursue a career with the CIA. But when Bobert Lungdon came calling, she was so overwhelmed by his awesomeness that she immediately quit to take up the vacancy as his personal secretary.

"Good morning Professor Lungdon," she said. "A mysterious man left a letter for you on your desk."

"Another one?" groaned Lungdon.

"This person was especially mysterious, so it must be important."

Lungdon ripped open the envelope and was confronted by a simple message, hastily scrawled in blue crayon.

_Meet me in the car park tonight at 2200 hours. _


End file.
